Alcohol and Bandages
by Relised
Summary: Gun shot wounds, hand written letters, and trips home. That's all Mickey and Ian's lives revolved around. But the letters stop coming and the news reports grim; Mickey realizes he might have to learn to live without Ian Gallagher. Character death
1. Chapter 1

_I don't own Shameless._

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><p><strong>Alcohol and Bandages: Chapter 1<strong>

Mickey was fairly sure that the night before Ian left for West Point was the worst night of his life. He kept a bottle of whiskey glued to his right hand, a cigarette in his left as he bitterly watched the clock over the television. Mandy constantly shot him worried glances as he lit another cigarette.

Ian had been insistent that they were truthful to Mandy; he said it wasn't fair that they continued to sleep around behind her back. Mickey hadn't been happy but he stood behind Ian as he whispered the truth the dark haired girl. While Mickey expected her to be pissed, she had squealed with happiness, claiming that she had never been happier for them. While it had been embarrassing that night, Mickey would kill to be that happy again.

The Gallagher's were having a going away party for Ian; one that though Mickey was invited to it, he couldn't force himself to go. It would likely be a year before Ian was even allowed to come home again and that was a year Mickey wasn't sure he was going to survive. Ian had whispered his pleas for Mickey to come to the party every night that week as he laid with his head resting on Mickey's ribs in the van behind the Gallagher's house. Mickey was positive that cuddling with Ian Gallagher, who was almost a half a foot taller than him and as masculine as they get, was the gayest thing he'd ever done. But even though Ian begged night after night, Mickey still pursed his lips and shook his head sadly, refusing to give in. Ian had sighed but nodded his understanding. Saying goodbye would be hard enough without the rest of the Gallagher's there. Finally Ian had whispered his promise to come over after the party had ended.

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><p>Mickey was three sheets to the wind by the time Ian showed up, a cigarette clinched between his teeth.<p>

"Hey, Mick," Ian whispered as he crouched in front of the ex-con. Mickey stared back at Ian with dead eyes, the threat of tears that he never shed clearly evident behind his eyelids.

"I want to be on top," Mickey growled, skipping the innocence that Ian thrived on. Ian licked his lips, throwing a glance to where Mickey's dad was unconscious in the chair in the corner. With a shaky breath he nodded, pulling Mickey off the couch and into his nearby room.

It wasn't like this was something too out of the ordinary. While Ian was normally the top in their relationship, every once in a while they would switch things up. Mickey had never been this drunk though, causing Ian to hesitate for a moment.

"Pants off Firecrotch," Mickey growled, pulling roughly at the belt of Ian's jeans. His hands were shaking and he couldn't quite focus. The alcohol he had downed was making him more sure about himself, something Ian wasn't sure about.

"Slow down," Ian mumbled, grabbing Mickey's shaky hands and helping undo the belt buckle and slip off his pants. Mickey shoved Ian onto the bed, falling onto him and reaching for the lube he kept in the top draw of his bedside table.

"Stop fighting me," Mickey growled, pulling his own pants off. He quickly lubed himself up and positioned himself behind Ian. Ian dug his nails into Mickey's arms.

"Slow. Down," he said through clinched teeth. "I don't hurt you, you don't hurt me, okay?"

Mickey growled back through equally clinched teeth, letting out a grown as he slowed down marginally. He paused at Ian's entrance, searching Ian's face before he pushed in. Ian tensed, a low groan escaping his mouth. He stayed tense as Mickey pushed all the way up to the hilt. Mickey stopped, once again searching Ian's face. He let out a grown mixed with a sigh. "Tell me when to move," he mumbled, his hands already digging into Ian's hips.

Ian squirmed, trying to get used to the fullness. This was a feeling he never could get used to and the main reason he was normally on top. He let out a shuttering breath, his eyes locked on Mickey's drunk gaze. With a deep breath he nodded, trying to keep himself from tensing up any more than he already was.

Maybe it was because Ian was so tight or Mickey was so drunk but they didn't last long. Mickey came with cry, his nails leaving scratches down Ian's back. Ian arched his back, shooting his load all over Mickey's stomach. Mickey rolled off of Ian, falling on his back panting.

After a while Ian sat up, twisting at his waist to touch the scratches on his shoulders. He hissed slightly, furrowing his brow. "That's going to go over well on inspections," he mumbled, not looking at Mickey.

"Let them think you've got all kinds of women at home," Mickey mumbled, his eyes shut. "Fuck, Don't Ask, Don't Tell's been repelled. Let them think you've got all kinds of men at home."

"I don't want all kinds of men," Ian whispered, letting his head fall back on the pillow. "I just want you."

Mickey didn't answer, instead lit another cigarette. Ian sighed, sitting up and pulling on his clothes.

"Let's go for a walk. It's stuffy in here." Ian said, his back still on Mickey. Mickey grumbled but crawled to his feet, pulling on his clothes.

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><p>They met Lip by the Alibi Room, a six pack in his hands. Mickey took one without a word as Ian shook his head. The three boys walked down the road, heading to the dugouts which were abandoned this time a night.<p>

"Can't believe it's already time to go," Ian said, sucking heavily on a cigarette as he leaned up against the cage to the dugout. Mickey let out a shaky breath but kept his eyes on his feet.

"I could still knee cap you in your sleep tonight," Lip said, a small smile on his face as Ian laughed. "But I guess I spent enough hours tutoring your ass to get you in here that it doesn't seem right."

"I guess I should feel special," Ian grinned back. "It must be something important to keep you from fucking Karen at all hours of the night."

Mickey watched as the two brothers bantered back and forth, big smiles on their face. He just didn't get it. Ian was leaving tomorrow. He'd probably be gone the whole year. And after four of those years he'd be going to war, where he could easily die. How could they be laughing?

A few moments later Lips phone rang and he excused himself from the dugout to talk to Karen. Ian waited until he was across the field before moving in front of Mickey.

"You okay?" he asked, his voice low. Mickey bit his lip, refusing to meet Ian's eyes. "Talk to me."

"Don't go," Mickey said, wincing when his voice cracked. He blamed the alcohol and the heat and the fact that Ian was standing so close. "Just…just don't go." Ian let out a shaky breath, moving closer so his forehead was resting against Mickey's.

"A little late now," Ian whispered, his hand gripping Mickey's thin t-shirt. "I'll be back though. Just wait. It'll go by fast. West Point will be done before you know it."

"Yeah and then you'll go off into some Middle Eastern country and get your ass shot off. Or am I not supposed to think about that?" Ian sighed, adverting his eyes.

"It's a possibility, yeah. I mean I'm going to West Point to become an office. You've got to know it's a possibility. But you've also got to know that I'm not going to go down without a fight. I'll be back Mick. You've just got to wait."

Mickey didn't like to kiss. Even when he was with the few girls he'd been with he never like to kiss them. Blame it on the fact that his parents never hugged him when he was little or the fact that his mom died when he was fourteen. And while Ian had it worse with his mom taking off and his dad taking all his anger out on the bottle and his kids, he never seemed to get enough affection. Only when things got really bad and Ian was on the brink of an emotional breakdown did Mickey give in and kiss the redheaded boy.

Ian threaded his hands through the hair on the back of Mickey's head, pushing their lips together roughly. Mickey moaned into Ian's lips, his hands digging tightly into Ian's hips. "Don't go," he mumbled, deepening the kiss, his body shaking. Ian broke the kiss, his sad eyes watching Mickey's face.

"I'll write. We'll make this work," Mickey sighed, nodding his head and pulling back from Ian as Lip walked back in the dugout.

"Ready to head back? You've got to be up super early, kid," Ian let out a sigh, holding his hand out to help Mickey up off the bench. Mickey sighed, gripping the hand tight. It was almost painful to let go.

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><p>Mickey was normally a vocal drunk. That night was a special night; Mickey had hardly said a word. He kept quiet until they were a block away from the recruitment office.<p>

"It's bullshit, you know. All these fucking teens signing up just to die. Like they're going to make a fucking difference by going into some warzone and shooting a bunch of people and dying. It's not going to a make a difference. All it's going to leave is a bunch of fucking dead people and a mess no one knows how to clean up after. Fucking stupid."

"Mickey," Ian mumbled, grabbing Ian's elbow to try to steer him along.

"No, and you're just one of those stupid people who think their making a fucking difference. You've been on the verge of being a ward of the state for how long now? And now you're running off to die for a cause that never cared about you."

"Mickey!" Ian growled again. Lip bit his lip, watching the two with wide eyes, not quite sure what to do. They were nearing the recruitment station at that point and Mickey paused long enough to grab a brick from the alley. "What are you doing with that?" Ian asked, his voice shaking.

"Fuck you, and fuck the goddamn military and fuck the goddamn government!"

"Mickey, stop!" Ian yelled, letting out a loud yelp when Mickey elbowed him in the lip. With one swift movement, Mickey launched the brick into the glass front of the recruitment station, shattering the window and setting off the alarms.

He fell to his knees, his face in his hands as he sobbed. He could feel Ian trying to pull him to his feet but Mickey resisted. He couldn't bear to look at him anymore. Just the thought of those green eyes and red hair made Mickey sob harder. He could hear the sirens in the distance but Mickey couldn't force himself to get up and run.

Lip reached out the grabbed Ian's arm, pulling him away from Mickey. "We've got to go, dude," he said throwing a glance over his shoulder at the blue and red lights that were speeding towards them.

"I can't leave him," Ian mumbled, trying to pull Mickey's arm again.

"Do you want to go to West Point?" Lip growled in Ian's face. Ian let out a shaky breath and then nodded. "Well then you can't get caught with the ex con who just threw a brick through the military recruitment station when the cops show up. Now come on!"

"It's going to be okay," Ian whispered in Mickey's ear, his hands digging in tight to Mickey's shoulders. "Just be good. It'll be okay. I…I love you."

Mickey cried harder when Ian said it and couldn't bring himself to say it back. He could hear Ian and Lip's footsteps as they ran. Soon the cops were on him, a big black man pulling his arms tight behind his back as the cuffed his hands together. He shuffled his feet as they led him to the car, reading him his rights.

Just before they pushed him into the car, Mickey paused. His eyes froze on Ian who stood almost hidden in the alley way across the street, Lip standing in front of him. He watched as the red head sighed and shook his head before turning his back on the scene and walking away.

Mickey wasn't sure what hurt most: knowing he wouldn't be able to say goodbye to Ian or the disappointment on Ian's face. But why was that such a surprise? He was just a disappointment to everyone around him.

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><p>Ian stood at the bus stop surrounded by his family and Mandy. There was an ache in his chest at the thought of Mickey not being there.<p>

"They've got him down at county. He's still on probation and being caught underage drinking, damaging government property, and drunken disorderly conduct didn't really help him. He'll be back in juvie before the day's over with," Mandy whispered sadly to him as she hugged him tight. Ian avoided her eyes as he nodded his head. "I'm sorry he isn't here, Ian. I know he wanted to be. This…you being gone wasn't going to be easy on him in the first place. I know he went overboard last night and I'm sorry."

"No, it's okay. I get it. I probably would have been the same if the roles were reversed. Just…just tell him I'll be back. It's going to be okay. It's going to be okay." Mandy gave him a small smile and a small kiss on his cheek. Ian thought maybe he would miss the most; having his fake girlfriend around when he needed her. "I'll miss you."

"I'll miss you, too. Just come back soon," Mandy said, a tearful smile on her face.

Ian hugged his sisters, Debbie and Fiona sobbing into his shoulder. And he held Liam close, smiling as the small child pulled at his hair, his latest phase. Carl gave him a head nod, suddenly too cool for his family. Lip hugged him tight, patting his back several times.

"Make us proud, Gallagher. I've got shit handled back here." Lip whispered. Ian nodded, looking up into the sun to cover the fact that he was about to cry.

"Keep an eye on Mickey for me," Ian whispered, shaking his brother's hand. He let out a shuttering breath as he turned to Frank who has just stumbled up to the bus stop.

"Ian," Frank said, taking a gulp from his flask.

"Frank," Ian said, raising his chin at his father.

"…Good Luck, kid. Make us proud," Frank said, patting Ian's shoulder. Ian raised an eyebrow in surprise as Fiona cried louder.

"Will do, Frank," Ian said, shaking his father's hand. With a last deep breath, Ian threw his bag in the storage compartment under the bus. He started to climb the steps, pausing to nod at his family. Mandy gave him a small smile which made him miss Mickey even more. With a sigh he climbed the last step onto the bus. He threw himself into a seat by the window and placed his hand up against the glass. Fiona on the other side held her hand up, a small smile on her red face. For once, Ian didn't know what he was getting himself into.

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><p><em><strong>AN:<strong>__ I hope you liked it. Please review. _


	2. Chapter 2

**I don't own Shameless.**

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><p><em>Alcohol and Bandages: Chapter 2<em>

There was almost a month that goes by between the night Mickey is arrested and the time someone visits him. Not that he's surprised by that. In fact, he's more surprised someone is visiting him at all. Mandy didn't like dealing with the guards, his dad was back in prison, and his brothers could care less. The only person who ever visted him the first time around was currently in New York; learning how get his ass shot off in a pointless war.

"Milkovich, you've got a visitor," a guard called to him from the doorway of the weight room and Mickey let the bar he'd been lifting drop. He didn't ask who it was, although he didn't have a clue who it could be. He stopped short, cocking his head to the side when he saw Lip sitting on the other side of the glass. He licked his lips, adverting his gaze before finally flopping himself down in the chair and grabbing the phone.

"What are you doing here?" He mumbled, rubbing tiredly at his eyes. A new kid, one that reminded him way too much of how innocent Ian used to be, had moved in the day before in the cell next to him. The kid had cried the entire night. Mickey didn't know why but it made him think of Ian, which caused him not to sleep.

"Ian's wrote you a couple times, but he's been sending them to our house because he doesn't know where you are. And the guards are less likely to read your mail if I bring it to you than if he sent it here…" Lip trailed off, flicking at his nose. Mickey swallowed thickly, turning away.

"How is he?" he asked quietly.

"He seems to like it; It's a lot of work and shit, but that's what he wanted. It's a sure ticket out of this hell hole." Lip was quiet for a moment, chewing on his lip. "How long this time?"

"Two years," Mickey whispered into the receiver, the regret clear on his face. "God, what was wrong with me that night?"

"Besides being drunk off your ass?" Lip asked, raising an eyebrow. "Your…. Let's call him your best friend for a lack of a better term. Your best friend just left for a year. And in a year he'll come back for two weeks and leave for another year. And it's going to be a ridiculously long process that can very well end in him being killed. And this was his choice. You're upset; so am I. And you had every right to be made at him. Destroying government property, however…Well there might have been a better way to show your anger than that."

Mickey let out a small laugh, the first smile he'd had in days crossing his face.

"I gave to letters to the guards and they'll give them to you after this. I put some money in your commissary fund, too. I'll be back next week if you have anything to send to him…Fiona's getting a bunch together and sending them at the same time…" Mickey nodded, holding his head in his hand.

"Yeah, thanks man. Really." Lip nodded, patting the table before getting up.

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><p>The letters had been thrust into his hands once he was back in his cell, the envelope still sealed. He opened them both, not sure which came first and searched for the date. The shortest one was dated August 16 and he let out a shaky breath as he read that one first.<p>

_Mick,_

_I hope every things okay. I know things were pretty rough that night and I'm so sorry I just left. I couldn't be caught with you though; not if I still wanted to go to West Point. _

_Things are nice here, though. The campus is beautiful and I've met a lot of cool people. Reception Day was hell, but thank God we worked out together so much this summer or I'd never have lasted in Basic training, which we call the Beast. I was one of the few who passed all the sections with exceeds expectations._

_Classes start tomorrow and it's going to be a long day: Eight hours of classes and four hours of training. But it'll be worth it, you know? I just wish I could see you, or that we'd had a better goodbye. _

_I'm sending this to Lip because I don't know where else to send it. No one's really let me know how your sentencing went. I hope it's not too long._

_Be good. I miss you. I love you._

_ Ian_

Mickey read the letter twice, smirking at the way Ian made his small a's backwards; a trait he knew drove Lip mad. With a sigh he folded the letter back up and opened the other. It was dated a week later.

_Mick,_

_It's been a long week and I'm exhausted. All of Fourth Class Cadets (freshmen to civilians) have to take the same classes; chemistry, physics, psychology, geography, a foreign language. I don't know if you knew this, but I took French in high school. So I'm trying to go on with that and hopefully learn a third language. I'm not sure what._

_We don't get to pick our major until we go into our junior year, and to be honest I have no idea what I want to do. How can I possibly pick something that I'd want to do in the military and then keep doing once I'm out? I guess that's why they give us two years to decide. _

_Even though their challenging, I like more courses. I know, that makes me a total nerd and if you were here you'd kick my ass. I've made a couple new friends, too. One guy is named Jason and he's from some small town in Ohio that I can't remember the name of. The other guy's named Alex and he's from Texas. He has the craziest accent and it makes me laugh. You probably wouldn't like them; far too clean cut for you. They keep asking about what Chicago's like, but what am I supposed to say? I live on the poor side of town with a drunk for a dad and a mom who ran off so my sister has raised me since I was 15? I've just been lying and making stuff up. I mean I've been to the North Side enough times to figure something out, and it's not like I'll ever bring them home with me. _

_I'm going to my first college football game next Saturday; once again, not that you would care since you've made it clear that you hate all sports. But I'm kind of excited. Steve was going to take us once, but right after he made his promise me and Lip were arrested and he had to flee the country so it never happened. I'll admit, I don't really understand the excitement over college football; I've always been a baseball fan. But everyone else is going so why not? It'll just give me something to do to keep my mind off home._

_How's jail? Sorry for the bluntness, but I'm pretty sure we're past the point of tiptoeing around the subject. Do you think it'll be like last time? Like if you're good and don't stab anyone with plastic forks that they'll let you out sooner? I'm not sure when I'll be home next summer; it'll just be for a week or two. But it'd be nice if you were out by that time._

_Be good. I miss you. I love you._

_ Ian_

Mickey let out a shuttering breath, smiling slightly at Ian's 'be good. I miss you. I love you' mantra. God he missed his ginger. He folded the letter up and stuck it and the first letter in his small locker in his cell. He climbed to his feet and went to the door.

"Can I get some paper?" He asked the guard who was standing nearby. The man raised an eyebrow at Mickey but nodded, leaving and returning with a stack of lined paper and a pen. Mickey sighed as he sat down on his bed, trying to decide what to say.

It took all week, but finally the night before Lip showed up, Mickey decided what to write.

_ Ian_

_I'm back at Juvie, the same branch as last time. Nothings really changed, really. It's the same guards, some of the same kids. The guards call them lifers and claim they'll be in real prison by the time they actually turn eighteen. Much to my surprise, I don't fall in that category with them. Looks like maybe someone other than you has faith in me, too. Weird, huh?_

_They brought in a new kid last week that reminds me so much of you. He's about your age; bright blue eyes and red hair. He doesn't belong in a place like this. I've heard that he was driving drunk in the accident that killed his girlfriend and they got him for second degree manslaughter. He's cried every night he's been here. I'm sure you're thinking 'why the hell is he telling me this?' But I have a point. You mentioned when Steve got you and Lip arrested that winter. I hadn't been here long and I think that's the only time Mandy came to visit. She was so upset that you'd been arrested and there was a chance you'd end up in here with me. I was sick to my stomach just at the thought. People like you aren't meant for a place like this, Ian. _

_I screwed up and I know it. I was an ass to you that last night, and I'm sorry. As the day went on I just kept thinking about how you were leaving and that you were going to go off to West Point and forget about me. I didn't mean to be that drunk when you showed up, I didn't mean to hurt you in bed (even if you won't admit it, I know I did), and I didn't set out with the intention to get arrested that night, either. You've got enough on your plate to worry about without my drunk ass fucking up, and I'm sorry to make more things complicated. _

_I'm glad things are working out there. I'm glad you're making friends and that you like your classes. And you're right, I hate sports. But if you think football might interest you, then I guess have fun. Don't spend all your time in the library or working out or whatever it is you can do there. Have a life. Have fun. Just don't forget about me. _

_It's supposed to be two years. But I'll be on my best behavior. I make no promises, but I'll try to be out when you get home._

_I'll wait for you, if you wait for me._

_ Mick_

It was probably the most heartfelt thing he'd ever said to Ian Gallagher, and Mickey blamed it o the fact that he hadn't had any alcohol or pot in the last month. In fact, that was the gayest thing he'd ever done, which was saying something considering the fact he'd had Ian Gallagher's dick in his ass more times than he could count. With a shaky hand Mickey placed the letter in an envelope and with his messy script scrawled 'Ian' on the outside.

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><p>Ian sunk onto his bunk with a tired sigh, his muscles screaming in agony. He ran a hand through his hair as he let his physics book and the thick envelope from home fall down on the bed next to him. These were the first pieces of mail he'd gotten and he had been waiting for them.<p>

Slowly, Ian tore open the envelope and went through the letters, trying to judge who they were from by the hand writing. The one top was from Fiona; he could tell by the way she made her a's. They were like a box, a small tail on them. He sat it down and picked up the next one, easily identified by Debbie's. Being in middle school they still required them to write in cursive, all her letters running together. There was one from Mandy, a big E scrawled on the front of her own envelope; her secret nickname for him. Carl had wrote his on a sticky note, two lines only: Miss you. Come Home. –C. Ian laughed, shaking his head. There was one from Lip, his messy hand writing hard to read. It was the last envelope inside that made him stop.

Ian read Mickey's letter four times, his smile growing bigger each time. He liked this side of Mickey; it was one he rarely saw. Not that Ian would want him to be this sweet all the time, it was just nice sometimes to see it.

He read the rest of the letters, smiling at Mandy complaining about Mr. Rogerson looking down her shirt in history and Fiona complaining about Carl trying to blow the house up again. He bit his lip when Lip told him Karen had been pregnant, but because she wouldn't stop partying she had lost the baby. While Lip was devastated, Karen had already moved on, fucking some other guy under the El.

Ian had just put don't the last letter, one from Debbie telling him about her plains for the middle school's student government when his roommate, Alex from Texas, stuck his head in the room.

"Gallagher," he drawled, his southern accent thick. "Time for PT."

Ian groaned, folding the letters up. He stuck all but one back into the big envelope they'd been sent in. They last, the letter from Mickey, he stuck under his pillow so it's be close at night. That was, after all, the time of day when he missed Mickey the most.

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><p><em><strong>AN:<strong>__ I hope you liked it. Please review. All facts about West Point came from their Wikipedia page. _


	3. Chapter 3

_I don't own Shameless._

**Alcohol and Bandages: Chapter 3**

It was around Valentine's day when it happened. Mickey had been back in Juvie a little over six months when a fight broke out. He had been in the weight room when the yelling started, the guards running in with shields held in front of them. Mickey put the bar he'd been lifting back in its spot and sat up. He glanced up, raising an eyebrow at Omar who was sitting across the room.

"What the fuck was that?" Omar asked, whipping his hand through his dark curly hair. Mickey shrugged, peaking his head around the door. Out in the middle of the jail room, a crowd had gathered around a large black boy that Mickey was fairly sure was named Tyson. Tyson had someone in a choke hold, a knife pressed to the kids neck. When Mickey took a step closer, he realized it was the kid who reminded him of Ian.

The red head's name was Josh. He was a quiet kid who kept mostly to himself. He was small, probably not strong enough to fend for himself in a place like this. Mickey was aware that Tyson and his gang had been trying to get Josh to join them, making him Tyson's own special bitch. Mickey was proud of the kid, knowing he had fought back and told them no, multiple times. That day, however, it seemed that Tyson was tired of hearing no.

"You think you so tuff, little boy?" Tyson yelled, tightening his grip on Josh's neck. "Think you so tuff, telling me no all that fucking time. Well guess what? I'm not just going to stay back and take no for an answer anymore. It's either you come with me, or you die!"

Mickey glanced at Omar who held his hands up in defeat.

"I literally robbed a candy store," the shorter black teen whispered. "I'm in here for two months. I'm not going to die for robbing a fucking candy store." Mickey groaned, pulling at his hair before pushing away from the door.

"Aye!" he yelled, causing the crowd to turn to him.

"You got a problem, Milkovich?" Tyson growled, knife pressing deeper into Josh's neck.

"Let him go, Tyson," Mickey said, holding his hands up in a peaceful gesture. He looked up, meeting Josh's eyes and giving him a small nod. "No one's got to get hurt here."

"And no one will once this little twink says yes," Tyson said, and Mickey could hear Josh whimper.

"Let him go, Tyson," Mickey growled again, his voice growing louder. He took a step closer to the two, his movements slow. He hesitated for just a moment, launching himself at the two once he got close enough. Tyson shoved Josh away from him, the knife that had been pressed against the red head's throat burying deep into Mickey's stomach.

Mickey's world shifted as the guards took action, some wrestling Tyson to the ground, others crowding around Mickey, yelling for someone to get the medic. He tried to focus on what they were saying, but all he could see was the glow of red hair above him.

"Ian…" He moaned, just as he blacked out.

.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

Mickey groaned as his eyes slowly opened, pain radiating through his abdomen. He gently placed his hand above the wound on his stomach, hissing when he pressed down on his fresh stitches. He realized that he was in the hospital wing of the detention center, but was glad to see he wasn't hand cuffed to the bed this time. Mickey glanced over, surprised to see the red head that had caused his trouble in the bed next to him. A small bandage was pressed to the side of his throat.

"He cut me deeper when he pushed me away," Josh said quietly, looking back down at his hands. "I…I wanted to thank you. You didn't have to do that. And you got hurt…for me."

"It was nothing," Mickey mumbled, letting his head fall back on the pillow. "You…you remind me of someone. Someone I'd never want to get hurt. Just felt like second nature, I guess. He's a good kid; just like I'm guessing you are."

"Crystal was my best friend," Josh said, his voice shaking as he looked at his hands. "Are mothers were best friends and we've known each other since we were babies. We started dating when we were in, like, sixth grade and we've never broken up. Not even once. She was my soul mate."

Mickey looked away, not wanting to make the teen feel awkward. Josh cleared his throat, wiping at the tears that were welling up in his eyes. Mickey bit his lip, glancing back to Josh.

"It was my idea to go to that party that night. She hated parties; always said it was too loud and complained how everyone was always so drunk… I'd had a couple beers but I thought I was okay to drive. I really thought I was okay. She argued with me; tried to take the keys and said she'd drive. Finally she just gave in and got in the passenger seat. She always hated fighting…"

"Listen, dude, you don't have to talk about it," Mickey mumbled, still not looking up." Josh shook his head, even if he knew Mickey couldn't see."

"No, I need to say this. It was a winding road; some old back way so my drunk ass could avoid cops and shit. It had been raining so the roads were wet. I went into the curve too fast and the tires slid. I was too out of it to try to correct the car. Ran head first into a tree; most of the impact was on Crystal's side. She died on impact."

Mickey kept silent, letting his hand gently run over the scar on his thigh. He kept his eyes low before finally turning to Josh.

"It was an accident," Mickey started, but Josh cut him off, shaking his head.

"I killed my best friend. I killed the girl I love. You didn't see the looks her parents gave me at the court house. You didn't see the looks my own family gave me. I killed the love of my life."

"It was an accident," Mickey said again. "While, yeah, you shouldn't have been driving drunk, there was no way to foresee this. I'm sure… I'm sure Crystal knew you loved her. It was an accident." The two boys were quiet for a few moments before Josh turned back to Mickey.

"The guy you say I remind you of…Who is he?" Mickey froze, his body going tense. He glanced around, making sure no one was listening to them before sighing.

"His names Ian," Mickey mumbled, staring at his hands. "He's my… my boyfriend." Mickey flinched; this was the first time he'd said it out loud. "He's…he's a good kid. We're both from poor families on the south side. He's more or less been raised by his older sister; dad's a drunk but still around. Mom's a drug addict who took off when he was 13. He's always had a fucked up life but he still sees the good in people. He's currently a freshman at West Point in New York. Wants to…Wants to join the Army, be an officer, make a difference. Even if that means leaving me and his family back here."

"How'd he end up with a guy like you?" Josh asked, and Mickey could hear the smirk in his voice.

"Horrible choice in men," Mickey mumbled with a shrug. "Trust me; first guy he was with was an ass that abused him. Second guy was a married man with kids. Now me. Horrible, horrible choice in men. Not that I'm much better. Got shot for him once, you know?"

"Yeah?" Josh asked, a small smile on his face. "Were you protecting him?" Mickey snorted.

"No. The married man caught us fucking in the store room of his little grocery store. I may have ran my mouth off a little. Spent six months in here for robbing his store even if he shot me. It's all in the past now. All I care about now keeping my head down low and getting out of here. Ian should be back in July for a couple of weeks."

The two boys fell silent again and Mickey watched with a bored expression as the warden of the juvenile detention center crossed the room, pulling a chair up next to his bed. He steepled his hands together, watching as Mickey struggled to sit up.

"That was a very brave thing you did this week," Warden Jones said quietly, crossing his legs.

"He's a good kid," Mickey said, glancing over at Josh who had turned his back on them. "He doesn't deserve to be some mental case because some asshole like Tyson wants to get his rocks off."

The Warden flinched at Mickey's vocabulary, shaking his head as he sighed.

"I have talked with Judge Scolfield, the judge who over saw your case. We have both agreed that you should be released on good behavior. Once the Doctor Campbell has declared you healed, we will release you. You will still be on probation, though, so stay out of trouble. "

"Seriously?" Mickey asked, his eyes wide. Although he'd been keeping his head low, he'd never really expected to get out on good behavior.

"Just stay out of trouble, Milkovich. Hate to see you have to do real time." With that, that warden stood and walked away, never looking back.

.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

Ian didn't do phone calls. Not because he didn't have a phone, because Steve had been sure to get him one before he fled. And not because they weren't allowed at West Point, because as long as it wasn't during class or PT, they could do whatever they wanted. It was more that Ian just didn't want to hear his sisters cry, or Lips strained voice as he told him how much a whore Karen really was or that Frank got arrested again. But that night, Lip wouldn't stop calling, even though he knew Ian hated talking on the phone. After about the fifth time, Ian finally answered.

"What?" He growled, sinking back onto his bunk. Lip took a deep breath, biting his lip.

"There was a fight at Juvie." Lip said, sounding braver than he felt.

"What?" Ian asked, sitting up fast and cursing when he cracked his head on the bunk above him.

"There was some fight in Juvie. Some kid held some little twink hostage. Your boyfriend is an idiot, tried to talk the fucker down and just ended up getting stabbed in the process."

"What?" Ian asked again, almost stupidly. "Is he okay?"

"He's going to be fine; or so says Mandy. She's been the one passing me information."

"Why didn't she call me?" Ian asked, his anger burning through his words.

"Because you don't answer your phone, asshole," Lip yelled, sighing. "But apparently since he saved this kid, they're letting him out early on good behavior. "

"Seriously?" Ian asked, a grin spreading across his face.

"Yeah, he'll be home next week. Long before any of us expected to see him. Just thought you should know."

"I…thanks Lip. You think…you think he can borrow your phone when he gets home? Just for an hour, two tops. So we can Facetime? Please?" Lip laughed, rolling his eyes.

"Just as long as no phone sex occurs when my phone is involved."

"Fuck you," Ian laughed, hanging up without saying good-bye.

.*.*.*.*.*.*.

Mickey gently lowered himself onto the couch in the Gallagher house, closing his eyes as he groaned. His hand pressed against the gauze pad under his shirt. He rolled his eyes as Carl ran thru the house, waving the bat over his head, screaming. Lip grinned, handing Mickey a beer as he perched on the edge of the couch.

"Here dude," he said, reaching into his pocket for his phone and handing it to Mickey. "He should call around seven thirty, since he gets out of PT at seven, so you've got a good forty minute wait. You just have to unlock it when it rings. I'm on babysitting duty, so I'll try to keep the kids out of this room for you. Give you guys some alone time. Just know phone sex."

"Haha, fuck you," Mickey said, rolling his eyes. "Hey Lip?" he called as the boy started to leave the room. "Thanks. For everything." Lip nodded, slipping out of the room.

Mickey stared at the phone in his hands, running his thumb over the screen. It was times like this that he didn't understand the Gallagher's. There were times when they couldn't even put food on the table, but three out of the six kids had iPhones. His mind wondered off to when Ian had first gotten his phone.

"Sometimes I feel like my sister is a whore," the red head had mumbled. Mickey had snorted, raising an eye brow.

"Are you going to elaborate or are you going to leave it at that?" Mickey had asked, a laugh in his voice.

"She sleeps with men to get things we need. Like when Frank got sober last time and put a hole in the wall. She slept with some carpenter so he'd fix it. Same thing with the plumber. And the floor guy. And now with Steve he's given her three iPhones; one for her, one for Lip and one for me. And he's footing the bill on everything. It's just crazy. I could never do that."

"Good to know you're not sleeping with me because of what I can give you," Mickey had mumbled, running a finger up the small of Ian's back. "Because I've got jack shit to give you."

"Tried it with Kash," Ian had mumbled, looking away. "Just made me feel dirty."

Mickey shook off the thought, trying to keep his mood up before he talked to Ian. He picked at his nails, repeatedly ran his fingers through his hair, and glanced worriedly at the clock. Finally at about 7:15, the phone started ringing in his hand, Ian's face lighting up the screen. Mickey took a deep breath and unlocked it, gasping when he finally got to see Ian.

The red head looked thinner, and although all Mickey could see was his face and his shoulders, he knew that Ian had more muscles. He was as pale as usual, but Mickey could still count every freckle on his face.

"Mick!" he said happily, and Mickey couldn't help but smile back.

"Hey," he said, just loud enough for Ian to hear.

"How are you? I heard you got stabbed, you're okay right? I mean you've got to be okay if they let you out, right?"

"I'm okay," Mickey said, placing his hand over stab wound. "How are you?"

"I'm good. I'm great. I'm just glad you're home. It'd be even better if I could see you in person; touch you…"

"When do you get to come home?" Mickey asked, biting his lip.

"July. Around the first of the month. Just four more months."

"You know why I did it?" He asked, looking up to meet Ian's eyes. Ian cocked his head to the side, raising an eyebrow.

"Did what?"

"Stand up to that asshole, stand up for that kid?" Mickey said and Ian shrugged. "Because all I could see when I looked at him was you. All I could think of was what I'd do if some thug tried to make you his bitch."

"We both know I'm the top in this relationship," Ian answered, a grin on his face as he glanced away from the screen.

"Fuck you. Still, all I can think of was what I'd do for you and I just snapped. I wasn't trying to be brave; I wasn't trying to get good behavior or any of that shit. All I pictured when I looked at this little red head twink was you."

"Please tell me you didn't fuck him," Ian said, his brows knitting together and Mickey glared at him, almost dropping the phone.

"No I didn't fuck him. He was in there because he accidently killed his girlfriend; don't think a clean cut kid like that swing this way. Mind you, always said the same about you."  
>"I'm glad you're okay," Ian said quietly, and Mickey noticed that he'd moved the phone closer to his face.<p>

"Take a lot more than a stab would to get rid of me, Gallagher."

"Just stop putting yourself in danger; especially for the kid who looks like me that isn't me. I kind of need you in one piece."

"Just come home, Gallagher. I need you here more than I need you fighting some stupid war."

"Be home before you know it," Ian said with a grin, winking at Mickey. "Good Night, Mick. Be good. I miss you. I love you," he said quietly. Mickey tensed up, looking away.

"You, too," he said finally. "Night, Ian," he whispered before he ended the call, Ian's pale face disappearing from view. With a sigh, he placed Lip's phone on the coffee table before slipping out of the front door.

.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

_**AN: **__I hope you liked it. Sorry it took so long, school got crazy for a while. Please review!_


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